Trust Fund Babes No More
by JMcDeere
Summary: Lorelai Gilmore and Emily Prentiss have a chance meeting and discover they have more in common than they might've thought...


A/N: Here's something a bit different for me: a crossover! I've had this story bouncing around in my head for a bit, so I figured I'd take a shot. It's a bit of an undertaking to combine these two universes, so please bear with me. As always, these characters belong entirely to the brilliant minds that saw fit to create them, and I am but an admirer of their talent, commitment, and creativity who wishes to borrow them for a bit of fun. Also, in the interest in keeping as true to the characters we came to know and love, I'm ignoring the Lorelai and Christopher romance/elopement of season 7 and, instead, allowing her to explore her options a bit more fully…

"'Come for a lovely evening,' she said. 'Everyone's been asking about you,' she said," Emily mutters to herself as she drives furiously down the highway. "At this point, I really should know better."

She sees the sign for her exit and puts her turn signal on, slowing down to accommodate the curve in the road. She follows the directions supplied by her GPS until she turns onto a well-lit dirt road next to the sign that reads "The Dragonfly Inn". Pulling into a parking spot next to what appears to be a stable, Emily climbs out of her car, grabbing her bag before locking up and heading toward the front steps of the large wrap-around porch. Even though it's far past dusk, Emily can still make out most of her surroundings and notices how beautiful the property is. She makes her way up the steps and through the front door, nearly crashing into a tall brunette woman as she does so.

"Ahh," the brunette yelps, clearly caught off-guard by Emily's entrance. However, she recovers quickly. "I mean…hi, welcome to The Dragonfly. How can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm hoping you can set me up with a place to stay tonight, because everywhere else I've called is booked," Emily replies, closing the door behind her.

"Well, you've come to the right place. I'm Lorelai, the owner. Let's get you checked in," she says, walking back behind the reception desk. After clicking through a few different menus and inputting all of Emily's pertinent information, she looks up and smiles. "Okay, you're all set. You'll be in room 4, which is my personal favorite because it looks out over the stables." She comes around the desk to reach for Emily's bag before the agent can protest, and says, "Follow me, I'll bring you up."

Emily does as she's told and follows Lorelai up the stairs, simultaneously taking note of her beautiful silhouette. She follows her down the hall to room 4 and crosses the threshold as Lorelai holds the door open for her.

"The maids have all gone home, but I can do turndown for you, if you'd like," the innkeeper says as she walks toward the bed.

"Oh, that's okay, thank you. You've already saved my night," Emily says with a light chuckle.

"Ah, I'm happy to help. So, anything else you need before I head out?"

"Not unless you know where I could get a stiff drink at this hour," Emily replies, intending sarcasm, but her tone of voice betrays her sincerity.

"Hold that thought," Lorelai replies with a smirk. She leaves through the still-open door and disappears. Emily stands, dumb-struck for a few minutes, until Lorelai bustles back in, holding a bottle of tequila and two glasses, and closing the door behind her.

"You're a vision," Emily says, her face lighting up. It may just be wishful thinking, but she could swear she sees a flush pass across Lorelai's face as the woman glances down at the floor. She walks forward, grabbing the two glasses and setting them on the small table near the window as Lorelai opens the bottle and pours them each a shot.

"To new friends, strong drinks, and leaving old money behind, where it belongs," Emily says as she raises her glass. Lorelai clinks her glass to Emily's before they both tip them back in a quick, fluid motion.

"Hah," Lorelai winces. "I like your choice of toasts, my friend."

"Oh yeah?" Emily asks as she lifts the bottle questioningly, receiving an encouraging nod from the innkeeper and pouring them each another. "I had a hellish night with my parents and their group of high-society somebodies who think they're better than everyone else because of the size of their family trusts."

"You are preaching to the choir," Lorelai says as she downs her second shot in unison with the agent. "I had a particularly rough Friday night dinner at my parents' house tonight, all before being unceremoniously kicked out when they remembered they had better plans for their evening."

"I can do you one better," Emily said, setting her glass back on the table. "My mother threw a big dinner party for all of her hoity-toity friends and made a big deal of inviting me, telling me how much everyone has been asking about me, and how much she hoped I would attend. Then I get there only to realize it's all a big, elaborate ploy to set me up with her friends' son who, by the way, I've been out with and rejected on three separate occasions over the past few years."

Lorelai smirks, happy to see her new friend shares her penchant for neglecting to breathe between sentences. Even though they just met, Lorelai can tell this is a person she'd like to spend some time getting to know. She glances down at their empty glasses, knowing she should probably go but wishing she could stay longer.

Sensing the brunette's hesitation, Emily offers, "It seems like we have more in common than the obvious affinity for tequila and stellar good looks, so could I maybe persuade you to stick around for a bit? I could use some company who doesn't think mutual funds make for stimulating conversation."

Lorelai agrees, her face lighting up. She settles herself into one of the armchairs that surround the table, motioning for Emily to do the same opposite her. Both women inhale deeply as they lean into the welcoming cushions, Emily kicking off her shoes and tucking one foot underneath her other leg as Lorelai crosses her legs, causing the hem of her dress to ride up her thigh ever so slightly. Emily takes note of this new development, before forcing her eyes to meet the stunning blue ones that are currently studying her intently.

"What?" she asks, blushing and believing she's been caught.

"Nothing, you just…" Lorelai trails off. "You remind me of someone, but I can't place who."

"No, if we'd met I'm certain I'd remember," Emily replies, becoming acutely aware of the effect the tequila is having on lowering her inhibitions as she flirts openly with this woman she's only just met.

"Hmm, I guess we'll just have to keep talking until I figure it out," Lorelai says with a grin, appreciating how relaxed she feels in this virtual stranger's presence.

"That's good with me," Emily replies. "So, how long have you owned the inn?"

"Oh, it's been about two and half years now, but before this I managed a different inn for a little over a decade," Lorelai says, glancing off into the distance, as Emily stares unabashedly at her stunning companion.

"Well, you've done a beautiful job with this one," Emily says, handing her a glass that she'd refilled as Lorelai reminisced.

"I'll drink to that," Lorelai says, tossing back her third shot with considerably less wincing than the previous two had provoked. "So, tell me about this fancy party you so cunningly managed to escape from."

"Well, my mother rarely uses her house in Hartford, so that was surprise number one. Number two, I was led to believe that I'd be staying at my mother's house, not shacking up in the pool house with a man in whom I have absolutely zero interest. And thirdly…well, I can't really remember the third at the moment, but I am still mad about it, so that counts, right?"

"Oh yeah, that definitely counts. My mom has actually tried to pull many similar schemes in her day, usually to the same end. When will she understand that her approval of someone suited to date me could not be any more of a turn-off?"

"Hear, hear," Emily says as she clinks her glass with Lorelai's, before noticing both are empty. "Oops, how rude of me."

"Yes, Emily Gilmore would be appalled at your lack of toasting etiquette," Lorelai mocks as she gives Emily a Cheshire cat grin and holds her glass out for more tequila.

"Emily Gilmore?"

"Ah, my mother," Lorelai responds. "She goes by many names, though that is the most widely accepted and/or least offensive of the bunch."

"I've heard that name somewhere-" Emily trails off. "Ah! Now I remember! Emily and Richard Gilmore are your parents?"

"Okay, that's just spooky," Lorelai says, glancing warily at her new friend. Had she mentioned them and forgotten? Maybe tequila wasn't the best way to go…

"Sorry, I met them tonight, actually," Emily says, reassuring Lorelai.

"Then I'm the one who should be sorry. Where did you meet my parents?"

"They were guests of my mother's at the party tonight. They arrived after dinner, though, so I didn't get much of a chance to interact with them beyond polite cocktail conversation," Emily laments.

"Trust me, you got the best version of them," Lorelai says with a roll of her eyes. "That's crazy, then your mom must be-"

"Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss, yes," Emily confirms.

"I knew it! I have seen you before!" Lorelai exclaims, jumping up to tuck both legs underneath herself and simultaneously reaching out a hand to rest on Emily's knee. Both of the women's eyes snap to the point of contact before Lorelai slowly removes her hand with an embarrassed and mumbled "sorry".

Choosing to let the woman off the hook (at least for now) Emily continues their previous conversation. "Where have you seen me before?"

"Well, when I was in high school my parents brought me along to one of their dinner parties at an ambassador's house, back when they still thought they could inspire me to live in their world if they just introduced me to enough powerful friends of theirs. I remember looking at some family portraits lining the hall table and asking about the young girl seated in front who seemed to be about my age. This provoked quite the reaction from both of our parents, as I was quickly hushed by mine and your mother seemed visibly uncomfortable at being asked what, to me, was a simple and polite question. She assured me that I had nothing to apologize for, and that unfortunately her daughter had 'fallen down the wrong path' and gotten into some trouble. I apologized again and excused myself to the bathroom in hopes that, with me out of the room, they might keep discussing the topic and feel more comfortable getting into details. As I eavesdropped from the staircase I was not disappointed. Did you really lock your headmaster in his office with a tiger?"

"It was only a bobcat," Emily chimes in, blushing at how impressed Lorelai seems to be at her adolescent exploits. "I can't believe you remember that after all this time."

"Well, who could ever forget those eyes," Lorelai retorts, before realizing how forward she's being.

Saving herself from letting things get too far, Emily wagers, "I'll bet your parents wouldn't have been too keen on the idea of the two of us spending any amount of time together."

"Well," Lorelai begins, "as soon as they found out I was pregnant they weren't too keen on my spending time with much of anyone."

"You were pregnant?" Emily asks, incredulously. "That's hard to believe when you look like that."

Lorelai blushes once again, shifting in her seat so that one leg drapes down over the other, bringing her foot dangerously close to Emily's extended one. "Well, I've had quite a while to get back in shape. My daughter Rory is 22 now."

Emily's mouth drops open for a moment before she catches herself and decides she needs to come up with a response or run risk looking extremely rude. "Wow, that must've been really hard on all of you."

"It was at first, but things got much better when I moved out. I wouldn't change a thing, though I did miss out on a lot of rights of passage that people seem to put so much stock in these days."

"Like what?" Emily asks, leaning forward slightly as she finds herself captivated by the gorgeous creature whose foot is currently only millimeters from her own.

"Oh, you know, typical teenage/twenties things: high school graduation, college dorms, frat parties, experimental lesbian experience, cramming for finals-"

"Wait, what did you say?"

"Which part? I talk pretty fast, if you haven't noticed, so sometimes it's hard to do an instant replay," Lorelai says.

"What do you mean by 'experimental lesbian experience', exactly?"

"You know, people always say, 'everyone experiments in college'? Well, I never went, in the traditional sense, anyway, and have always wondered what might've happened if I had," Lorelai admits, glancing down at her hands that are fidgeting in her lap.

"Well, it's never too late to try new things," Emily says, picking up the bottle of tequila and pouring them each a generous portion. "But a word of advice: if you ever do have an experience with another woman, especially if she has already made herself known as queer, leave the word 'experiment' out of it. It's patronizing and makes us feel cheap."

"Us?" Lorelai asks, quirking an eyebrow. "Why, Emily Prentiss, do you mean to tell me you're a card-carrying member of the lady admiration society?"

"I don't know if I'd say all that, but mainly because my tongue would be otherwise engaged," Emily says with a wink as she downs her fourth shot of the evening. By this point she is aware that she's shamelessly flirting, but it does not seem to be deterring her companion, so she decides to relax and give in to her impulses.

Lorelai, on the other hand, nearly chokes on her shot as she digests what Emily has just said. She lurches forward, accidentally kicking Emily in the process. The women reach for each other, Lorelai to soothe Emily's shin, and Emily to pat Lorelai's back, and end up in an intimate embrace. Lorelai's breasts graze Emily's knee as she gets a face full of the innkeeper's hair and inhales deeply out of reflex. They remain this way for a moment before slowly pulling back almost all the way. They gaze into each other's eyes before surging forward into a searing, forceful kiss that brings both women to their feet.

To be continued…


End file.
